


i'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

by abigneignenn



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jealousy AU, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25222531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigneignenn/pseuds/abigneignenn
Summary: Matthew Fairchild x Lucie Herondale one-shot, written by the prompt "Oh, you're jealous."
Relationships: Jesse Blackthorn & Lucie Herondale, Matthew Fairchild & Lucie Herondale, Matthew Fairchild/Lucie Herondale
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	i'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

The truth is, Matthew loves Lucie. He loves how she scrunches her nose, while solving a nasty math equation, or her exasperated but gentle gaze when he does something stupid (which, unfortunately, happens far too often for his liking). He loves that her first confession was mumbled in a sleepy daze on the way home in his car. He loves her smile. How her hand fits perfectly in his own. Her passion for writing. The blue of her eyes.

The truth is, Matthew Fairchild is sure that if he could get a crowbar and crack open his soul, every bit of it would be painted in golden hues of Lucie Herondale.

Her sundress flutters in the wind, making her look like a vision from his daydreams, and he casts a silent prayer to the higher powers for allowing him to be in her vicinity. Lucie tugs him forward, rambling, “…and then Jesse remembered that his family owned the needed manuscript. Angels, I’m glad he’s my partner, I would fail this assignment without him.”

Another truth is, Matthew definitely doesn’t love when Lucie talks about Jesse Blackthorn. Jesse, who looks at her with adoration in his eyes; Jesse, who is willing to find extra work and steal a few more minutes with her; and Jesse, who’s clearly waiting for the moment when Matthew slips up, so that he could swoop in like a knight in shining armour.

_Well, not today, satan_ , the blond boy thinks glumly. Not ever if he has any say in it. And, in fact–

“Matthew Fairchild,” Lucie grits with a frown on her lovely face, appearing in front of him. “Did you even hear what I said?”

He most certainly did _not_. “Of course! Lu, your voice is a salve for my ears that had to endure the incessant whining of your brother for the past few hours. Cordelia finally got the guts to ask James out, the ‘oh-so-great’ Jesse Blackthorn is your study partner, you suck at history-”

“Oi, you bastard, I never said the last part!”

“No,” Matthew quickly agrees, adding, “And yet we both know it’s the truth.”

Lucie shakes her head, muttering, “Arsehole,” but he already sees the beginning of a smile on her lips. It’s the one he adores the most — fleeting but sincere, with a hint of childlike wonder, born against all odds and her efforts to hide it.

“Young lady,” he sternly starts, clutching his chest as if struck by a sudden heart attack, “one day you’ll have to wash that cheeky mouth out with soap. What would poor Aunt Tessa think if she knew what atrocities stemmed from it?”

“There are a few other things my mouth is good for, Math.” Lucie grins, snaking two hands around his waist. “And swearing doesn’t even make it to the top three.”

She stands on her tiptoes, lightly nudging his nose with her own; and Matthew draws her closer, until their bodies are flush against each other. “Lucie Herondale,” he murmurs with a note of feigned seriousness, “are you trying to ruin my innocence?”

“I’d say it’s too late for that, Matthew Fairchild.” She hums, stealing a sly glance at his lips.

Another one truth is, Matthew doesn’t — _no_ , Matthew cannot even blame Jesse for fancying Lu. Not when she has a soft look in her eyes, full of kindness, and warmth, and profound understanding — _always_ understanding. Not when a one word from her makes you believe that, in lieu of your wretched demons, your pitiful and worthless existence, there’s still something worth staying for. He lowers his head until there are mere inches between them; and Lucie shines with inner bliss, as if the immortalisation of the sun in a living person, and she is radiant in this moment, and–

And it doesn’t matter, because the next second her tacky ringtone envelops them from every direction.

Matthew heaves a sigh, letting go of Lu, when it’s evident there’s no other choice. She sends him an apologetic glance, picking up the cursed device after it doesn’t shut up for a whole minute. “Hey, Luce,” Matthew hears on the other side, and his mood instantly dampens, because he knows all too well the owner of that voice. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” _You are_. “But I found your textbook and thought you might need it.”

“Oh?” His girl tilts her head with a silent question, as she goes through her bag. Personally, Matthew has no idea how she even manages to find something in there; for him, it has always resembled a black hole with no end. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it tomorrow. Thanks for letting me know!”

She makes a gesture to end the phone call, when Jesse chimes in, “Actually, I’m free right now, so if you don’t have anything scheduled, we can meet up. I wouldn’t want for you to miss up on your school work.” _I’m sure that’s not the only thing you want,_ Matthew thinks, inwardly rolling his eyes.

“No, it’s alright, I don’t need it for another two days anyway. I’m sure you have more important things to do, but I appreciate the offer.”

“On the contrary! I’ll be happy to get it for you,” Blackthorn boy heartily says.

_“Oh, Lucie, do you also want one of my kidneys? Can you imagine, I have two of them!”_ Matthew mocks Jesse’s tone, earning a deathly glare from the girl. She smacks him on the arm, continuing in louder voice, “Maybe tomorrow? It’s rather dark outside.”

“Are you walking alone? You should have said you needed the ride.”

_And_ he can’t stand it any longer. They are bordering on edge, when even Matthew feels a semblance of pity for the older boy, and, against his assumptions, their situation doesn’t bring him any joy. Maybe because imagining himself in Jesse’s place is achingly _easy_ , and there’s always a world on the brink of his mind, where their dysfunctional triangle ends in a different outcome, but Matthew isn’t ready to entertain that thought yet.

Matthew doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready.

He gently untangles the phone from Lucie’s hand, despite her protests. “Jesse, mate, I apologise, but you are ruining our date, so if that’s all you need to say, we have to go.”

“ _Oh_.” The single word is steeped in hollow disappointment, and Matthew unwillingly covers his eyes for a moment — the burden of being the executioner takes its toll on him, but ripping off the band-aid is the best solution he can think of. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Have a good day.” Matthew mutters under the scathing gaze of Lucie. Her posture reeks of silent judgement, scolding and hot, as if the blue part of the flame, ignored by many, and yet the most fervent. “What?”

She lets out a small sigh, holding her palm up for him to pass the phone. “Math, that was rude.”

“One more minute and it’s your hand in marriage he would be asking for, Lu.” He carefully says, wrapping his hand around her shoulders. “You call it rude, I call it tactical move.”

“I just wish you could give him a chance. He’s not the bad guy here.”

_And that is the tragedy, isn’t it?_ Jesse was never a bad guy, far from it — in fact, Matthew admits with a bit of reluctance that he’s one of the decent ones. And that makes all his hidden feelings, zealously harboured against the other boy, nothing more than a folly, born out of the everlasting insecurities and doubts.

“I know, I know,” Matthew shakes his head, as if to rid himself of the unwarranted thoughts, “But I can’t help but feel…” He fumbles for the right word to describe the thorny knot in his stomach, and yet in the end it’s Lucie who voices his affliction.

” _Oh_.“ A quiet gasp, as realisation downs on her, similar to the torrential rain. "You’re _jealous_.”

Jealous. _Huh_. What a common word to name the hurricane of emotions inside of him.

"Love, I can’t be _jealous_ ,” he emphasizes the word with disgust, as if it’s the blemish on earth. “It’s rather a matter of your safety. Have you seen the guy? I’m ninety — scratch it, hundred percent sure he is a ghost.” Matthew sputters, while Lucie’s smile grows with every phrase out of his mouth. “And I’m too pretty for astral realm, so if you get sucked in there, you’re on your own.”

She ignores his wanton blathering, all teasing eyes and infectious laugh, “My, my, Math, who could have thought that the monster indeed has the green eyes.”

“I’m not jealous,” he meekly protests.

Lucie puts her palm on his beating heart, and she brightens upon sensing its rapid thuds. “No?”

“Uh-huh.” Matthew swallows when she gets closer to him. There’s a dangerous gleam in her eyes, and he feels like a trapped animal with no way out. Smiling like an innocent angel, Lucie brings her other hand to his neck.

“So if I were to call Jesse this minute,” she whispers in his ear and her hot breath tickles the side of his cheek, “and tell him that I _do_ want to meet — in this supposed scenario, you would feel nothing?” After minute of stillness, Lucie starts to pull away, “Well, in that case–”

She doesn’t have time to finish her thought, because Matthew tugs her in his embrace, bringing their foreheads together. “I may be a little bit jealous,” he admits begrudgingly, and Lucie lets out a small laugh. They are silent for a few moments, breathing each other in, with London commotion for the background noise.

“Hey, Math,” Lucie mumbles with a sudden timidness, and he lightly squeezes her waist, urging her on. “You know we’re forever?”

The truth is, Matthew may not believe in fate or himself, but the only thing he will have an unwavering faith in until the universe collapses is this girl, standing in front of him with hopeful eyes, as though she doesn’t hold the key to his whole existence. So Matthew does what he’s been dreaming about doing all day — kisses her under the grey sky with happiness in his veins and promises of forever on the tongue.

And, if he thinks about it later, what is a bruised ego to the love of one Lucie Herondale? _Nothing but dust and shadows._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! If you want to request other prompts check my tumblr @abigneignenn


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